


dust to dust

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drabble Sequence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: First, second, last.
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	dust to dust

**Author's Note:**

> for [snapeloveposts](https://snapeloveposts.tumblr.com/post/616024472658591744/snape-appreciation-month-2020)’ first kiss prompt.

His first kiss happens like this: Fourteen, going on fifteen, a dark room, warm breath. Lily giggles in that way she does when she’s unsure of herself, and Severus only hesitates a second. Her lips are soft, damp, warm; beneath the overwhelming pleasure, there is an acute awareness that his own are chapped. He pulls back, an apology on the tip of his tongue. It dies there, burnt to a crisp in the light of Lily’s smile. She giggles again – nervous, this time. His own variation bubbles in the back of his throat.

He can’t remember ever feeling so light.

* * *

His second kiss is almost the same: dark room, warm breath. It’s also a world apart: eighteen, going on nineteen, sat in Lucius Malfoy’s lap. Fingers brush over his jaw, deceptively gentle, and Severus _melts._ There is no giggling, not this time. No chance for hesitation, either. Instead, there is a hand slipping beneath his robes and the sharp edge of teeth biting into his bottom lip. This time, there is a groan caught in his throat and a desire that bubbles, burns: a sense of desperation growing. 

This time, there is the bittersweet taste of acceptance on Lucius’ tongue.

* * *

His last kiss isn’t much of a kiss at all. He’s alone, for one. The recipient a slip of parchment that’s been torn, crinkled, ink faded and paper worn. _Lots of love, Lily._ He brings it to his mouth in an act that’s practiced: parchment curled across his forefinger so _love_ sits aside his knuckle. It’s fleeting, the kiss. His lips cold, chapped, his chest aching.

 _He’s waiting for you_ , Lucius had said, not-quite meeting his eye, and all Severus had thought is that he knows, then. Knows the same way he does.

There will be no returning, this time.


End file.
